


Letters

by virghoe



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: F/M, Fluff, super like john green-y bullshit but w/e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virghoe/pseuds/virghoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry has a good way of cheering you up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> So today I failed my permit test and was feeling rather sulky so i indulged myself in this. I just had to write this tonight so i didn't have to be reminded of this garbage again. Idk what else to write lmao

“Hey” even through his old novelty phone Barry could tell you were upset. The way the receiver cracked at the watery quality to your voice was an instant indicator that you were fighting back tears. Before he could even ask what was wrong, you were there to answer.

  
“I know this sounds really stupid but, like, I failed my permit test” you let out a few whimpers, which were embarrassing, but you were far too upset to care. You were humiliated, you felt _stupid_. Some of the dumbest people you had ever met passed this test on their first try, but when you took it you completely froze, and you couldn’t calm the shakes in your hands going to touch an answer on the screen. You felt stupid for even being upset, but your brain didn’t let you have the option of feeling any other way.

  
“I just feel so _dumb_ ” you said with a heavy breath, and more tears than you had planned for.

  
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You can take it again, I can even help you study!” Barry tried being positive, but he knew he couldn’t help. And you tried not to be irritated with Barry, but it was hard, as mean as that sounds. You _did_ call Barry, and you _did_ want to hear him tell you it was ok, but the whole study part bothered you. You had studied, very hard, and it was just crushing to hear that your best, once again, wasn’t good enough. You stayed quiet, because you wanted to keep everything pleasant, when you were upset it was almost _too_ easy for you to be a terrible person.

  
“Are you gonna be ok?” He asked again after the static silence became unbearable.

  
“Yeah” and you hung up, you were impossible when you were upset. Good thing you were able to acknowledge it, bad thing that you never did anything to fix it. Barry was a good friend. It was sad the amount of times you said that to yourself. He was always cool and collected during your most hurricane like tendencies. You wondered why he was so tolerable, and why he let things be about you so much. Barry was good at being your life boat, from the sinking ship that was your life (or anyone’s life at the age of 16) as melodramatic as that sounds. Barry was a good guy, something that was so rare to you. You don’t know what it was about the exact combination of where you lived, who went to school with you, and what you were like that attracted such _heinous_ men, but you were grateful for the exception.

You and Barry had been glued together since the first grade, ever since you made friends in the time-out corner. Earlier that day you had pinned him to the ground for stealing your special markers, the ones that smell all fruity. You both sat while the other kids played outside, and when the teacher wasn’t looking, Barry flung a note your way.

  
 _“Sorry. I was trying to coler my drawling_ ” on the other side, you scribbled him a message back.

  
 _“Its ok. Im sorry I hert you. I lik ur pictures”_ Now that you thought about it, he hadn’t really increased in artistic talent. But he knew that. That aside, you both remained by each others side since then. You were there with a stain stick when a pen broke in his shirt the first day of sixth grade, and there to help his face wounds, ones he got too frequently trying to shave the crazy amounts of facial hair that sprouted at a way too young age. And he was there when you had gotten your first period, and he gave you his jacket to wrap around your waist, and he was in the front row when you got roped into being in the school talent show, he’d even brought you a bouquet (his mother’s recommendation, but sweet none the less). Barry and your’s history was a long and well worn path down memory lane, but it was simple, it was reliable, it was an underrated miracle you had been gifted with.

  
Spacing out was a favorite pastime of yours, and difficult to break you from, but Barry found a way. A 90’s romcom way but a way none the less. When you heard the tapping of rocks to your window you opened it to see Barry, hands shoved in his pockets, looking up at your from your driveway. You rested your head on your hands and rose a brow at Barry.

  
“Aw, how cliche” you cooed, a slight giggle about you.

  
“Are you gonna sneak out with me or not?” He asked a bit too loudly for the situation, it was times like this you thanked god your parents work schedule was so fucked that they went to bed at like 6 in the evening. You slipped from your house as quickly as you could manage, a record time of both makeup and clothes, but Barry still had room to complain when you finally came out.

  
“Your chariot awaits” he gestured to the handlebars of his bike, and you flattened your palm to your chest, and made a face that mockingly communicated “Oh my”. As safely as you could, which was not very safe at all, you placed yourself on the handlebars. It was dusk, and the sky took on that orange-y pink color you liked, rimmed with the deep purples of night. You didn’t know where Barry was taking you, last time you had gone on a ride it was, wow, like years ago? It was after Barry had gotten dumped after two weeks by Rachel Kruger, you rode your bikes up to Taco Bell and paid for one of those twelve taco boxes. You ate three and he drowned his sorrows in the other nine. Of course you and Barry had hung out between then, but this was the most free you both were in a while. As pop-punk as it sounds, small town life had a way at eating you up. While many saw comfort in knowing everyone, you found it confining, suffocating. With Barry, and actual space separating you from the known, you found comfort. Barry and you were currently riding the back roads to God knows where, and besides the low hum of music sounding from the bike basket, and the swift whir of an occasional passing car, it was quiet. But sometimes Barry would sing lowly, breath a little heavy, but you liked the low hum of his voice, he’s better than he’d give himself credit for. But that was Barry in general, humble. Almost aggravatingly so. Before you could let your mind wander any longer, you felt the harsh skid of the bike beneath you, and gripped yourself a little tighter to the handlebars.

  
“We’re here!” He said, making sure you got off the bike ok before swinging himself off.

  
“What’s here, exactly?” You said, brows rose at the wall like set of trees in front of you.

  
“Dude, you don’t remember?” before you could confirm that, no, you were a terrible friend and didn’t remember this place, he grabbed your hand and took you into this set of woods. The light found paths through the sparse gaps in leaves, and lit the woods softly, and what wasn’t lit, had a lightning bug residing to help you along your way. Spider webs glistened, and you felt the tickle of vines to the back of your legs, and you wished Barry would slow down so you could look at the cool broken bottle you passed. Did it say embalming? But no, Barry was too determined to do that. When he finally stopped,  you stumbled next to him, and saw he was looking up, and now you remembered.

  
It was your old tree house. You had made it the first time you and Barry had ever snuck out. See, this old part of the woods used to be a jewish summer camp, and that was where some counselors stayed. But it was long gone when you and Barry first stumbled upon it, and when you climbed up there that night, you couldn’t even remember how long ago, you had made this _your spot._ You hadn’t been in so long, you forgot the place existed, but it was instant nostalgia when you finally crawled in.

  
“I can’t believe you remembered where this place was” you laughed at Barry, feeling the little rug beneath you, and looking at the silly drawings Barry had put up of you and him.

  
“Well, I still come here sometimes, just to chill. You looked like you could use some chill” he smiled at you, while snapping on the little lantern you stored in there.

  
“What do you do in here?” You asked after looking through the little knick knacks scattered across the tiny room.

  
“I write” he said quietly, eyes avoiding yours slightly.

  
“What do you write” you asked humor tainting your voice, Barry had never _written_ anything before.

  
“Well, I uh, I was actually gonna show you tonight…” he started, while reaching for a little shoe box backed up to the wall. He handed it to you, and then looked immediately away from you, to some spot on the wall. The box was labeled “Letters I’ll Never Send”, and when you opened up, was stuffed haphazardly with different sheets of ripped notebook paper.

  
“What-”

  
“Please don’t make this harder for me, just read them yourself” Barry said rather quickly, maintaining eye contact with the wall. You unfolded one, so old it had that yellow tinge of color.

  
_“Dear (y/n), I only dated Rachel because I thought I couldn’t be with you….”_

  
You opened another.

  
_“Dear (y/n), While I wasn’t happy that you got your, y’know, and were so embarrassed, but I liked that you wore my jacket…”_

  
Another.

  
_“Dear (y/n), You know, stage lights compliment your face so well…”_

  
You looked up to Barry, who had finally gained enough courage to look back at you. You let a stutter pull at your lip, and a nervous tick settle into your eye, making it flash between the letters and Barry, once it seemed like your overall being was malfunctioning, you made the split second decision to kiss Barry. It took him by surprise at first, as it would most people, but he let it sink in rather quickly. He wrapped himself around you, holding you tightly, mostly out of excitement, and partly out of just wanting to make sure this was _real_ , and _happening_.

  
“I don’t know, you always are so hard on yourself. I just wanted to like, let you know how special I think you are” Barry said after letting himself go from you. Well, it worked. You definitely felt special, and overwhelmingly happy. Through all this, you had let the night time settle around you and Barry, and could hear crickets in the distance.

  
“You don’t have to tell anyone at school about this” Barry said quietly, again, looking away from you.

  
“Yeah, I shouldn’t tell people about my _disgusting_ crush on you” you said playfully, and you saw a smile twitch at his lips.

  
“That’d be pretty embarrassing” he said, finally looking back at you.

  
“Totally” you smiled back at him, and kissing him for the second time of many.


End file.
